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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181523">Kettering</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/msouma/pseuds/msouma'>msouma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, I suppose, Incest, Minor Violence, Time Travel, also this is for tori, bc sag bash baby!!!, underage is tagged JUST IN CASE but five is aged up here!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:42:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/msouma/pseuds/msouma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>How many times does a mistake have to be made before it is no longer repeated?</i>
</p>
<p>The question rang in his head every time he felt that vibrating glow in his hands. He was no philosopher, no grandiose thinker like Aristotle or his father, he was just some guy with powers that kept his guilty conscience at bay. Yet, he knew the answer to this complicated question - his mistake is immortal. It haunts him in every step of the way; stares at him with its warm brown eyes, sits behind him and twirls its brown locks nervously around its fingers, lays down besides him in their shared bed and grips so tight that he’d never try to force it away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kettering</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyaaas/gifts">fiveyaaas</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for my wonderful friend Tori!!! Their birthday has just passed, but heyyyy.... who stops them from celebrating with a bit of angst? They deserve it after the heavy load of being my friend on their back. Honestly, it's a wonder to have you as my friend, Tori, and I really hope you enjoy this fic as much as enjoyed writing it!!! Happy late birthday, happy holidays, and happy upcoming new year! Let's hope the next year we grow even closer!!!</p>
<p>No notes regarding the fic because honestly does anyone even care if I have anything to say?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Five…” The frail voice awoke him again. Five gripped onto the overused blanket. It was faded and rough to the touch, having gone through hundreds of people before it ended up covering Vanya’s crumbling body. He used the little strength he had in his body to push himself up, then smoothed out the creases he made in the material and leaned back in his wooden chair with a creak. It was to the point of breaking. Reminded him of those square and poorly made Soviet chairs that shook under the slightest of touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, my love?” His lips trembled, but he had to be brave. For himself, so he wouldn’t fall into pieces here and now, and for her. Always for her. She didn’t deserve to see him like this, and more so, didn’t deserve to be in this position. His quiet yet fierce Vanya, now turned into a corpse that barely clung to life. She didn’t deserve to be here, either. In this dimly lit room with pastel green wallpaper that revealed crusted cement walls as it peeled at the corners, and the cracked tiles barely supporting the metal bed. The only things making the dark room livelier were the beeping machine and Vanya.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Water…” The warmth in her eyes was chipping away, taking his weak smile with it. Hers, though, was plastered on her face like she was just fine. With the corners of her lips tugging deep into her cheeks and her perfect teeth reflecting the low, yellowish light. She finally got herself to mouth out, “please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no need for any more words. He nodded, stood, and left. The door creaked and shut behind him before he was gone in the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How many times does a mistake have to be made before it is no longer repeated?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The question rang in his head every time he felt that vibrating glow in his hands. He was no philosopher, no grandiose thinker like Aristotle or his father, he was just some guy with powers that kept his guilty conscience at bay. Yet, he knew the answer to this complicated question - his mistake is immortal. It haunts him in every step of the way; stares at him with its warm brown eyes, sits behind him and twirls its brown locks nervously around its fingers, lays down besides him in their shared bed and grips so tight that he’d never try to force it away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But maybe… maybe this time, he would finally be ready. Unlike never before, his eyes had a glint of determination when he looked into the dark hallway in front of him. This time would be different. This time, he would erase the typo in the fineprint and bring everything to the way it should be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And if he’s not ready? Then at least this would be the 30th time he’d get to enjoy her true and unabashed happiness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five…” He could hear her call out, even if her voice was giving out. He knew. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>; letting her die alone just once more would be not the gravest sin he’d made.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There he was, 8 days earlier, facing his own self in Vanya’s bathroom mirror. In exactly 4 minutes and 43 seconds, she would walk inside of her shabby flat with the violin case over her shoulder and a tired expression. In exactly 3 minutes and 20 seconds, she would realize that her bathroom light was left on, and she would walk in to turn it off while cursing softly. In exactly 3 minutes, she would see Five for the first time in 15 years, and nearly faint from the outburst of emotions inside her heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first time he travelled back in time and appeared in her bathroom, he didn’t know where he was or why he was there. Before he could figure out how he calculated the wrong place for him to land, the door opened suddenly, and he saw Vanya. His poor, powerless little Vanya, who was no longer all that little. That was the only difference there, though, as her small stature and sad eyes screamed for help.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled, the dimple in his cheek appearing for the first time in many years. There was no need for smiles in the apocalypse, but now and here, Vanya deserved to see it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stood there with a neutral expression that showed more than any reaction would - she was surprised (that was a given), confused (also a given), angry, and even embarrassed. He could recognize every bit of it in the way the corner of her mouth twitched, her cheeks flushed enough to give her skin a light dusting of pink and her eyes fluttered closed so she could take a deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five,” she began, then bit down whatever bitter remark she wished to say before continuing in a calm voice, “what are you doing in here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every time he landed in this stupid bathroom, the same would happen. He would take a moment to recognize his surroundings, she’d then walk in and give the same reaction. Every time he landed in this stupid fucking bathroom, he would have to turn to her and say something, anything. He had said many things in the past times he tried this, and he gained many different reactions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, however, he said nothing. He just kept smiling as he extended his arms towards the frail woman, closing his eyes to block off the tears that wished to escape onto his cheeks. Five inhaled shakily to calm himself down and reminded himself - remember her for this. Remember her for who she is as a person, for her warm hugs and happy smiles, for how she loves. Not for the way she rots away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for the first time in a while, he felt warmth. Her arms wrapped around his waist and tugged him close, hands gripping onto the back of his black jacket. Slowly, he hugged her back, laying his cheek on the top of her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was funny how life toyed with people. When they were kids, Vanya always said that she would one day outgrow him, and he would just have to wait and see, and yet… he was the tall one, still. It made it all better, though, as his hugs were protective and tight. In his hold, she could always feel like a princess in a castle, protected not only by thick walls but by millions of guards too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In his heart of hearts he knew that this castle was made of nothing more than paper that could crumble at the slightest of blows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vanya,” he finally whispered, pulling away from the embrace just enough so he could grasp her warm cheeks and tilt her head up. “Vanya, you… you’ve changed.” For starters, she was alive. “You’re…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>So beautiful. I want to run my fingers through your hair for hours, to kiss you till you’re breathless, to see you smile while we sit on your old couch and talk about your neighbor’s cat. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t dare to say it. “Different.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Time does that to you.” She shrugged, pulled his hands away, then shook her head. “You too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five was getting used to this appearance by now. The first time he travelled back from the post-apocalyptic world where he lived his last days as an old man, he was shocked by his youthful appearance. He looked like he was in his 30s, for starters, and with the wonder of modern day clothing and beauty products that haven’t been destroyed yet, he actually didn’t look too bad. Short dark hair that contrasted his light pupils, smooth skin (he wasn’t proud of his skincare after the apocalypse), lips that were no longer chapped. It was like he was a child again… except not, since he was an adult. But hey, when you’re in your 50s for a long time, being 30 again makes you feel like a baby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time around, he was no longer surprised that he looked like this. He was in his 30s for a good year now, with all his time hopping.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do I know about time, Vanya?” He rose both of his brows and gave her one of his annoying, smug half-smiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes and patted his shoulder with her small hand. Oh what he’d do to press her fingers to his lips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not now, Romeo,</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mind interrupted the little fantasy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not if you wish for her to be alive. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want some tea?” She uttered, her shy, soft voice like a melody to his ears. He knew what she didn’t dare to say - </span>
  <em>
    <span>do you wish to discuss this difficult and confusing topic with me?</span>
  </em>
  <span> - and he nodded. Because of course he wanted to. If it’s her, he always did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This time will not be like the others,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he promised himself as he observed his family from the couch he sat on. Klaus sat cross legged next to him, twirling some sort of blue cocktail with a stick while chatting with Diego about the upcoming apocalypse. While those two were involved in their own conversation, Allison and Luther stared at Five expectantly. He had to share his new plans on how to stop the apocalypse. He had many chances to do so before. He never failed to stop it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He never failed.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes in our lives there are moments when we connect the dots that we previously couldn’t. Sometimes, we feel so stupid because we simply have never thought of this solution before. This is how Five felt in this moment, sitting on the couch surrounded by all of his siblings but one - Vanya.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t say anything, letting their anxious gazes linger as he stood up and walked up to the bar. Pinching his nose with one hand, he found the bottle of alcohol. After spending a few minutes making himself a Margarita, he came back to the couch and sat back down, taking a long sip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” Klaus finally inquired, matching Five by sipping his own drink. “Got any thoughts, Fivey?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched Klaus shift on the couch, tucking one leg under the other while he leaned closer to Five. Once his brother’s face was near his shoulder, he finally cleared his throat and pushed the other away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” A nod. “To stop the apocalypse… we have to stop Vanya.” A heavy silence settled upon the room, but Five continued drinking his Margarita while he stared down at the carpeted floor as if he didn’t say anything surprising.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each time he tried to stop the apocalypse, he would always fuck up right before finding out who would cause it. Each time, it wouldn’t happen. At some point, he was starting to wonder if it ever really happened, or if he was just stuck in an overly realistic coma when he thought he had lived after the apocalypse. But no, what he had experienced was real. It was proven by his siblings’ shocked faces when they saw him for the first time in 15 years each time he jumped back to 2019. It was proven by the fact that Vanya would get fatally injured because he fucked up one thing or another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The countless questions started spilling from the Hargreeves’ mouths. Five tuned all of them out as he continued staring, barely even blinking. Vanya, his poor, powerless little Vanya. She was not so powerless, not so little, and not so poor. She was the ticking time bomb waiting to explode, and he was the one who had to defuse her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For such a long time, he had thought that the mistake he made each and every time was giving into the pleasure of being with her, the sin of kissing his sister’s lips. He was ready to cut all of that out this time around, if that meant that everyone, including her, would be happy for once. But here he was, finally realizing that there had never been a mistake made in his journey of saving her. Killing her was the only way to save others. Killing her meant that the bomb would never explode.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There had to be another way. He would rather die than not find it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There he was, 8 days later, standing on the pavement in his foolish bowling shoes. For the first time, the timeline flipped itself over and went in an unexpected flow. He didn’t know what to do or what to say, but one thing was certain - he had to save both Vanya and the rest of humanity from its impending doom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly, changing the flow of time was not a good choice on his part. Because he refused to push his advances onto Vanya for the first day he returned, she found some fucking guy that was suddenly her boyfriend. But he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> some fucking guy, like Five wished for him to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five clutched the bloody glass eye in his hand as his hitching breath escaped his nose. The guy was the damn key to the apocalypse, the one to push </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vanya to doing something immoral and unspeakable. The fucking bastard. If he wasn’t dead already, Five would’ve allowed himself the pleasure of stabbing Leonard to death slowly and agonizingly, so he would feel the exact pain Five felt losing her over and over and over again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was like being trapped in a loop where he had to repeat the same unfortunate outcome each damn time but with a different spice - the first time Vanya died directly because he let her hand go, causing her to get fatally hit by a car as she ran from him and the last time was because she had a stab wound that she couldn’t survive. Died in some shabby hospital, despite his wishes of taking her to an expensive one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At this point, he was almost desensitized to the loss of his loved one. He would watch the light die in her eyes, her lips barely form words and blood poured past them, her skin growing paler, and he would just sigh. Another failed attempt. Another time she dies alone as she watches him jump through a time wormhole.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It hurts him, though. It does. But not the fact that she’s dying, no, not anymore. It’s the fact that she never once gets to live a truly fulfilling life before her inevitable doom. Maybe if she had died after having a satisfactory life, he would be okay with it. He would even celebrate it, taking her around the world for her very last days, kissing her on top of the Eiffel tower and having dinner in Rome. However, each time her death was miserable and painful, her life before it, too. They never had enough time to actually love one another, and he never had enough minutes to get her radiating from happiness like she was the sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once, she was radiating. It was a beautiful pale white that was pulling him inside of the theatre where her concert was happening. And when he entered, what faced him was a beautiful disaster. His siblings hiding to save their lives while Vanya showed herself in all of her glory in the middle of the giant stage. Her violin played a melody unknown to human ears, her eyes - white and devoid of emotion - reflected humanity’s worst deeds. He could see everything happening inside of her, like she was some statue to commemorate the pain and cruelty this world had to endure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fear, together with his sibling’s hushed yelling, faded as he took a step closer to the magnificent beauty that he once called his lover. Her dark hair flew all around her pale face like waves around a ship, and as her deadly eyes landed on him for the first time this evening, she gave him a promising smile. The promise did not hold a single good thought, covered by the rage she felt towards the world. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How dare they take everyone I love away from me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the menacing smile screamed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>how dare they lie to me all my life. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five could’ve fallen on his knees and apologised for it all right here and now, like a sinner before a god. He could’ve promised her a better life, confessed his love to her like he had done so many times before, pushed through the deafening sound waves and hugged her, kissed her, held her until she calmed down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was no evil creature, just a misunderstood woman who got trapped in her own rage because nobody understood the real her. He didn’t understand the real her because he never fucking knew her. He wanted to. The non-sedated, angry, strong Vanya. No more a little, weak girl. His sister, his girlfriend, the love of his life. He wished to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vanya.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stared at one another, one with complete devotion, the other with unfiltered hatred. And who was he to say that he didn’t deserve this anger directed right at him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, he spoke, “Vanya…” It was a simple call, one so soft and gentle, to remind her that he loved her. She did not know just how much, yet. Not in this timeline.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vanya!” Again, louder. Her brows furrowed, she didn’t speak. Her hand, holding the violin bow, moved to point at him in an elegant motion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Five!” Vanya, with her freshly cut bangs, ran into his room with the happiest smile he had seen in a while. “Father gave me the violin! He said I’m free to practice it.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Five gave a scoff and tucked his nose back into his physics book. Despite the attitude, his voice was sincere, “I’m happy for you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Without another word, she moved to sit down next to him as she opened up the case and explored her new violin.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The same violin was resting in her arms. It never got broken, even after all these years. Her prized possession.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” He fell quiet. In this timeline, there was nothing he could say to convince her to stop. Maybe if he actually showed her his love, he could promise her a happy life. But now, now he couldn’t. He was just a stray brother that stumbled back into her life via her bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand raised higher, turned the bow slowly. His body tensed in response, and she smiled slyly. She was teasing him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vanya.” Fuck it. He had to do what he had always promised her to - save her. “I love you, Vanya.” Those three holy words that he knew had always made her melt. So simple and easy, but enough to have her wrapped around his finger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This Vanya was no foolish girl, trusting empty promises. She tilted her head to the side, scoffed, “I’m happy for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those were the last words he had heard before the world turned black.</span>
</p>
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